


Angels at the after party

by friendly_local_cryptid



Series: A lonely demon and Mr Fahrenheit [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Queen (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Freddie Mercury and Crowley were best friends, M/M, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Smoking, anxiety all around really, but it's generally mild dw, don't smoke it's nasty, hey uhh, i love how delilah has her own tag what a queen, i still don't know how to tag, thanks for the support on my other work btw it made my year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 16:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20763344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/friendly_local_cryptid/pseuds/friendly_local_cryptid
Summary: "I've only known this posh gay angel for five minutes of awkward conversation, but if anything were to happen to him I would kill everyone in this party and then myself."- Freddie Mercury, probably





	Angels at the after party

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley belong to the wonderful Neil Gaiman and Sir Terry Pratchett.  
Freddie Mercury belongs to himself I guess. 
> 
> The interview clip referenced is real, here you go: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=99pzCbe15F0 
> 
> Hi! So, this work is part of a series. You don't have to read the first work ("He's your love song, darling") to understand this one, but it's highly recommended just because I think it'll be rather more enjoyable. It's about Crowley and Freddie meeting, becoming close friends, drunkenly writing Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy about Aziraphale as some type of therapy exercise for Crowley, and Aziraphale hearing it for the first time in the Bentley quite some time later. I recommend reading that first, but you can do whatever you want. Free will, mortals, and all that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!! :)

The dingy little London bar at this time of night felt oddly like a fish tank, leaving its occupants to drown in the sticky smell of sweet spilt wine and cheap beer, everything tangy and acrid. Swimming through dust that settled in your throat, stuck to the corner of your eyes. 

An angel of the Lord sniffed, wiggling in his seat. A demon, sat across him, was in his element, kneading a bottle of lukewarm beer with his palm like a rolling pin and rejoicing at the angel’s disgusted glances. 

“So”, the angel cleared his throat politely, “How was Brighton?”

“All _ b_right.”

“Pardon?”

“Uh, s’alright. Good. Did job, happy marriage. All that.”

“Oh, well _ done _, Crowley!”

“Shut up.”

“And how was the baby?”

“What baby?”

“Crowley! Don’t tell me-”

“I didn’t forget, angel, I’m messing with you.”

“Well, I wish you would stop.”

Crowley pulled a face, “Beautiful baby, mushy red fleshy thing. Cried and puked and all like the best of ‘em.”

Aziraphale sighed dreamily, “I almost wish I’d lost the coin toss.” 

“No, you don’t. Bloody messy thing. You’re too prim and proper for child birth.”

“I beg to differ, I-”

“W- Shush, wait”, Crowley stopped him, craning his neck to look behind him. Aziraphale huffed indignantly and followed Crowley’s gaze towards the bar’s tiny television screen. It had some sort of twinkle of mischief he didn’t particularly like, even behind the black shades. He could see it in the jut of his chin, the most imperceptible quirk of the lip, the greedy arch of expectant brows. He sighed.

A man was being interviewed on telly. He had a black mustache and a red and white striped shirt, and he was smoking. He couldn’t really say much else about him until knowing him, because if Aziraphale had one unbreakable rule for judging human’s based on their corporeal vessel, it was to just not do it. He was often wrong. 

“Do you have hobbies?” droned the interviewer from behind the camera. So he was famous- oh! Was that not Freddie Mercury, the nice chap with the vest who sang on stage sometimes?

“Is that Mr Mer-”

“_ Shh, _angel.”

“I am not- uhm”, Mercury shook his head, looking bored, he huffed out a small laugh, “Yeah, a lot of sex”, he smiled and took a drag of his cigarette. Aziraphale gasped, Crowley snorted. 

The interviewer was silent. Mercury nodded softly, hummed, eyes twinkling and latched on to the person to the left of the camera. He turned to someone to the right. “Try and get out of that one”, he said lightly. Behind the camera, soft snickers of contained laughter could be heard.

Aziraphale turned to the demon, who was grinning… fondly.

“May I speak, now?” he said pointedly.

“Yeah, uh, whatcha think of ‘im? Mm?”

“Mr Mercury, is it?”

“Mr-”, Crowley snickered, “Yeah, yeah, him.”

“Lovely name. Very evocative”, Crowley laughed, openly, head pulled back, and Aziraphale bit down the proud smile that was blooming at the corners of his mouth. That wouldn’t do. 

“It is, he chose it. But, uh, you don’t like him?”

He looked at the demon sitting across him, hunched up and expectant. He could feel his unblinking amber stare digging into him.

“I would never say that! He is… talented.”

“Talented”, he nodded.

“Charming.”

“_ Charming _ ”, he rolled the word around his mouth in deliberate disbelief, “ _ You _ find him charming.”

“I can’t see why that is so surprising. He’s charismatic.”

“Alright. Alright, y- uh, good. Would you- Do you think-”

“Hm?”

“Ngk. Would you like to meet him. Maybe. Hypothetically.”

“Oh! Well. Sure.”

“You’d like that?”

“I mean, if the opportunity presented itself, I don’t see why-”

“Tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah. Uh, party, tomorrow.”

“Dear me, why on Earth would I go to a party nowadays? They lack the very few things I enjoyed from balls. Oh, a masquerade, wouldn’t that be lovely? Why did they ever go out of stile?”

“Masquerade, right, there’s some underground, uh, culture, for that, uh, type of _ thing- _ the point is- would you like to accompany me to this, uh, _ gathering _, celebration, tomorrow evening? To meet… Mr Mercury. With me. If you’d like.”

“Oh. Crowley.” His voice was so soft, so careful.

“I know, I know, shouldn’t have asked. Sorry-”, the demon looked ready to bolt out of his seat and set the place ablaze. 

“It’s only-”

“S’okay. Sorry. Uh. I’ll- I’ll pay for this and we can -erm- why don’t we-?”

“Dear boy, be quiet and stop fidgeting for a second will you?”

“What?”

“I would very much like to meet this fellow. It’s just, my side, I don’t think they would be too pleased. I- oh, never mind, better not. Absolutely not.”

_ Convince me, convince me, convince me. It’s always the same game. _

“Why would they ever know? Not any different than coming to have a drink at this place with me.”

“It is _ marginally _ different.”

“_ Marginally _”, Crowley mocked him petulantly.

“Don’t be childish, Crowley.”

“_ You’re _ being childish, _ Aziraphale _ . If you don’t want to go, fine. If you won’t go purely because of _ sides _, then you really shouldn’t be meeting me here either.”

“No, perhaps you’re right, I really shouldn’t-”

“_ No _. That’s not- Listen. You don’t have to come, only if you like. But it really isn’t any different. And- And you don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be there.”

“That’s rather the root of the problem, dear.”

“I know. I mean, you don’t have to be afraid of- of humany things. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

“Why would I be afraid of the humans?”

“Well, I don’t know, the bloody atmosphere isn’t exactly angelic, is it?”

“And you think I can’t stand up for myself in that sort of situation?”

“Of course you could, you Principality. I just- look. I’ll be around the bookshop at eight pm tomorrow. To pick you up.”

“I didn’t say I was going. Why do you insist on me going?”

“I would-”, Crowley grimaced, took a sip of his abandoned beer, “I would _ like you _ to meet Freddie. He’s… my best friend. And you’re… Whatever, _ you _. I would really like you two to meet.”

“Oh.”

And that was that.

***

“So listen. I’m thinking-”

“Oh dear”, Freddie propped himself up on his elbows from the sofa to peer at Crowley, who was sat cross legged on the carpet, ignoring the two cats attempting to climb him. 

“The party tomorrow.”

“What party, darling?”

“The- _ the _ party? Here, tomorrow?” Crowley frowned. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah”, Freddie rubbed absentmindedly at his brow, eyes closing tiredly, “Yes, of course.”

“... Right. I’m bringing a guest.”

Freddie turned his head slowly, disbelieving, “Are you going to tell me I should play nice around this guest?”

“Y- Actually, yes.”

Freddie gasped, “I’m finally meeting him.”

“W- How-”

“You don’t have any other friends, dear, and you wouldn’t mind me being a prick around anyone unless it’s your bloody angel. You’d encourage it. Oh, this is marvelous!” He clapped once, triumphant like he’d just bought the last remaining stupidly overpriced century-old garbage in the auction he was three hours late to. Rich people things. 

“Okay, okay, uh-”

“I’ll be so polite his own mother would be _ ashamed _of his behaviour by comparison.”

Crowley snorted, paused to look at the ceiling, snorted again, “Right. I know you can be a gentleman from your interviews. Best behaviour. I’m warning you.”

“_ Yes. _ Well, speaking of that”, Freddie hummed, drew a cigarette, “Did you see me earlier?”

“The- your hobbies?”

“Yeah.”

“It was great.”

“I didn’t, you know…?”, he rolled his wrist speculatively.

“Nah, the interviewer was a bit of a knob.”

“Yeah, I thought so too”, he grinned, “Did your angel see it? You had a date?”

“Yep. And, er, no, not a-”

“Oh dear.”

“Wh- No! No, he laughed”, Freddie smiled at that, tilting his head with a little inquisitive hum, “He said you were _ charming _, of all things.”

“Well, maybe there _ is _something positive to say about his character judgement.”

“Wh’s that supposed to mean, you hang out with me too. More than he does.”

“Exactly. Everybody knows I have poor judgement. Some would say I lack it.”

“Well, they’re bloody right. I’m terrible.”

“Mm, absolutely awful you are. The devil. Stop frolicking with the cats and pass the wine, will you, darling?”

***

Aziraphale was panicking. He stopped his pacing to tug at his immaculate waistcoat. An hour to go. Should he change? 

“Don’t be ridiculous, old boy.” 

He resumed his pacing. 

“Oh dear. Oh dear.”

Half an hour to go. He perched on his armchair to take a few counted breaths, looked down at the book sitting on the coffee table. Oscar Wilde frowned at him, softly judgemental. 

“Don’t you look at me like that, Oscar”, he muttered, picking up the pace again. 

Fifteen minutes to go. Eternity seemed to move quicker. 

“Oh, oh, _ bother _ ”, really, should he change? He should. Maybe he-, “No. I’m not wearing _ jeans _.”

Ten minutes. Will they know, up there? They’ll definitely know. But he needed the full human experience, right? He’d gone to balls, masquerades, clubs, banquets, before. Why was this any different? 

“I wasn’t going with a demon, for one.”

Nonsense. He’d meet him there. He’d take him out for lunch, after. 

“Oh, this is _ not _ appropriate. If they ask- what will I ever say to explain myself? It’s alright for Crowley. He can just say he’s tempted an angel into sinful activities and they will certainly give him a promotion, on the spot. It might actually be what is happening- would one know if they’re being tempted?”

None of that. That’s a dangerous path to tread. Five minutes, just go change your bloody tie, it matches your recliner, for Heaven’s sake- The doorbell tinkled. 

“Angel?”

Of all the days to arrive early. 

“Crowley! In the backroom, my dear.”

“You ready?”

“Yes. Yes, I believe I am. Let us go, then, shall we?”

Crowley leaned calmly against the doorframe. Tempting, alright. _ Don’t _go there, that’s preposterous. “Are you nervous at all?”

“Why would I be?”

***

Crowley was going to lose it. He was going to discorporate, here and now. Because Aziraphale had said yes, and he was here, and he was grinning so bright and beautiful, and he was going to meet Freddie because he meant something to Crowley, and they’d just stepped into the crowded house and he _ had just linked their bloody arms what the fuck keep walking keep- don’t stumble you bloody imbecil- straight line! You’ve had legs for six thousand years, you can bloody well use them- _

“Crowley, darling!”

Freddie was trying to extricate himself from the sweltering pulsing mass of gripping nudging arms that was the crowd and make his way towards them. They waited for him at the entrance and Crowley willed Freddie’s knowing, teasing eyes away from their linked arms.

“Good evening, sir, may I take your coat?”, he inclined his head towards Aziraphale, who let out a delighted little _ oh! _ and hurried to hand it over. Freddie winked at Crowley as he turned to hang it, “And you can hang your own bloody jacket, dear.”

Aziraphale laughed at Crowley’s offended frown, nudging him lightly. Freddie leaned against the wall and smiled with his eyes. He often did that. In fact, Crowley saw his eyes smile more often, and definitely more genuinely, than his lips. 

“I’m Freddie. You must be an angel.”

“Pardon? Oh”, Aziraphale’s confusion quickly turned into a lovely pink flush across his cheeks, and he extended a hand, “Aziraphale. Charmed.”

“I’d say.” Freddie shook it. 

“Right, well, go mingle. I’ll catch up with you in a second. Freddie, help me with this”, Crowley thrust a bag filled with several glass bottles at the man’s crossed arms (probably not the smartest idea), which Freddie (miraculously) caught. 

“Ah, well, er- you see, dear, I’d rather-”

“One minute, an-_ ziraphale _ , I’ll be right back. _ Go mingle _.”

Freddie smiled at him as Aziraphale sighed apologetically and stepped into (rather, around, pressed to the wall) the crowd of party goers, with a last confused glance at Crowley. 

“What the Hell was that?” He hissed, walking into the kitchen. 

Freddie grinned, “I think he was rather charmed.”

“_ Angel _?” 

“Yes, right. Wink wink.”

“Wink wink’s right, you bloody wanker.”

Freddie laughed loudly, drawing the attention of the people gathered around the sink, doing Satan knows what with smashed up ice cubes.

“I’m sorry, I had to. You have nothing to be jealous of, though, dear.”

“I’m not bloody jealous, I’m not _ twelve _ , it’s just embarrassing, you can’t just call him what I- and what do you mean by _ that _?”

“Well, for one, he’s not exactly my type”, Crowley’s frown deepened at that, _ who the fuck would turn down Aziraphale given the chance _?, “But, really, darling, you never told me you walked around arm in arm.”

“Oh. Er”, Crowley sagged against the counter, “New… development.”

“Oh _ ho _. You’ll have to bring him to more parties.”

“It was hard enough to get him to come to this one… Erm- nh- Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you- uh, hm- what do you think? Of him?” That was what humans did with their best friends, right? That was normal and appropriate. Or was it a teenager only thing? 

“What, is he hot?”

“Freddie.”

“He is, in his way, I mean-”

“_ Freddie. _”

“Alright”, Freddie laughed, slinging an arm around Crowley’s waist, “He’s _ nice _. I’ve hardly met him. Let me actually meet him, and I’ll tell you more.”

This was nice. Contact. He never thought he was touch-starved until he was actually touched, which seemed to be ingrained into Freddie's nature. He leaned his head against his shoulder, drank thirstily from the warm presence of another willing, loving being holding him. Satan, he really liked having a best friend. He decidedly didn’t think about why he hadn’t allowed himself to have one up till now, except maybe old da Vinci, some time ago. How he was a stagnant pebble in the stream of time, lifes trickling by. 

“Okay. Just…. keep the angel references on a low. He’ll think I’ve been talking about him.”

“C’mon, loverboy, introduce me to your guy.” 

***

Aziraphale had said he could handle it, and he was going to. He just had to stop himself from having a panic attack in Freddie Mercury’s bathroom first. It was just… so bright. So so bright. White. White hot, everything. He sat on the edge of the bathtub. So many people, so many eyes, so many _ elbows _. 

He imagined this was what Hell was like, all heat and sweat and smoke and the smell of booze and loud pulsing music that wedged itself uncomfortably between your lungs and crisp glinting smiles that went nowhere except to a stranger’s bed. Apart from all the light. That was like Heaven. In a _ bad _way. And wasn’t that a thought? 

A soft rustling from inside the tub made him jump. It was just a tabby cat. Oh. He cautiously picked it up.

“Hello there, dear little creature”, he sniffled, “Are you not keen on all the noise either?”

The cat meowed.

“Quite right you are, young miss. Dastardly smell, all the humans together. I suppose you and I might suffer from it more acutely than them. And Crowley, of course, but he seems to thrive in it. Jolly good for him. I do hope he’s having a pleasant night, regardless of my hiding.”

A knock at the door, “Angel, stop talking to the cats. I’m having a great time, thank you, and I’d like you to open the door for me, if you could.”

“Oh dear”, he murmured, mortified, drying his cheeks, and he opened the door, “Hello, Crowley. I’m so sorry.”

“Quite alright”, he said softly, “Can I come in?”

He slipped past him into the tub with his feet swinging over the edge and caught the cat, cradling it to his chest with a quiet, “hi, Delilah.” Aziraphale smiled, feeling warmth bloom in his chest. And then, in the same soft voice, “hi, angel”, and the comfortable warmth turned into a bonfire. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, dear, thank you. Just a little overwhelmed, I’m afraid.”

“Oh”, he rubbed the top of the cat’s head thoughtfully, “Would you like us to leave?”

Oh, Heavens. That fire between his ribs better stop spreading soon. “No, Crowley, I am absolutely peachy now, I assure you.”

“_ Peachy _”, he muttered. Then, louder, “Well, would you like me to steal some of Freddie’s bottles and we can have our own little party in here? Plenty of space in the tub for the three of us.”

Aziraphale felt himself flush, and if he were the type to do so, he would have undoubtedly cursed under his breath. Crowley smiled softly, eyebrows arching.

“That does sound… tempting”, Crowley’s smile spread, “But I think I’d rather have some air right now, if you don’t mind.”

***

“Hello, darling”, Freddie stepped out onto the balcony, leaning precariously against the banister. 

“Oh, good evening, Mr Mercury.”

“Freddie’s fine”, he chuckled, “I was told not to call you angel, though.”

“Oh”, Aziraphale blushed furiously, “Did… Anthony ask you not to?”

Freddie stared at him, eyes squinted in amusement. “You call him Anthony?” He’d been expressly told not to. He absentmindedly rummaged for a cigarette and lighter.

“No, not really. I thought you might.”

“Huh. You know you have that man wrapped around your finger, don’t you?”

Aziraphale’s face positively overflowed with crimson. He looked at him, stunned, for a few long seconds, then smiled awkwardly, huffing out a tiny laugh. 

“I- uh. Well”, he cleared his throat, laughing again, “Apologies for not joining in the fun, by the way, I was feeling a little light headed. Your party is lovely.”

“Very kind”, Freddie grinned. He had the most charming, boyish smile, he thought. Then, the man seemed to think carefully of what he wanted to say next, and the angel gave his subconscious a little encouraging push, “Did anybody... say anything to you?”

“Oh, no, no, nothing like that. Just my old head, a little overwhelmed. I’m not exactly a party goer, as I’m sure you could tell by now.”

“I think I could”, Freddie lit a cigarette. 

“It’s just-”

“You’re very brave.”

Aziraphale chuckled breathlessly, “I really cannot fathom why you would say that, dear.”

“Well, because you are. Looking like that”, Aziraphale inclined his head defensively and Freddie fiddled with his cigarette, dragging his front teeth over his bottom lip nervously, “That was on its way to a compliment.”

“It didn’t seem like it, dear boy.”

“I know, I cocked up the phrasing”, the angel smiled, doubtful, “I meant to say, you’re unapologetically unique. That is not only rare nowadays”, he gestured vaguely to the swirling mass of dancing drunk bodies behind them, “It’s also dangerous, if you don’t have the protection of the spotlight. So, being true to what you are, like this”, he reached out a hand to straighten his already perfectly placed bowtie, “And… in any other way, it’s _ brave _, darling.”

For some reason, Aziraphale was feeling choked up. Why did he have to be so sensitive? He could feel how Freddie’s words were partially directed to himself, and he knew what the man was really trying to say, so he smiled brightly. 

“Oh, my dear. I just didn’t want to wear _ jeans _.”

Freddie laughed and squeezed his arm, making the angel beam. 

Crowley, watching attentively from inside, wine bottle halfway to his lips and Delilah the cat tucked under one arm, smiled the most content smile that corner of the Earth had seen up to date. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to thank you SO MUCH for the response to my first work. I had no intention of posting more and absolutely no expectations of anybody even seeing it but holy shit guys THANK YOU!!! I can't begin to express how much every comment means to me. 
> 
> I wrote this the same weekend I posted the other one but even now I'm not fully convinced by it. It was really fun to write, but it doesn't really have a plot or narrative, it's just gratuitous emotions and dialogue, so I'm sorry if it was boring to read or, for those who asked for more, if it was disappointing.  
That being said, I might write more of this type of thing because I adore these characters and seeing the husbands interact with Freddie brings me so much joy and more people need to write about them please and thank you. 
> 
> Anyway,  
thank you so much for reading!! Comments and kudos are very much appreciated!!  
(I print out the comments and fold them into a jar on my desk so I can pick one to read at random when I'm feeling uninspired with my work, so really, truly, I'm so thankful for every one) ❤❤❤
> 
> talk to me on tumblr about literally whatever, where I'll probably offer my instagram because I hardly check tumblr: local-cryptid-writer :)


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